Margaret DuPres
by Dete Wor
Summary: Sweet Mercy! So... after finally adjusting certain site filters, it looks like this place was STEAMIER than I thought! HA HA! However, this brief aside shall explain how certain elements wind up from another story I was writing. Of course... it AIN'T going to be read aloud in the podcast! First person... & I think I'll go on that fashion. THAT whiny vamp might as well have his say!
1. Chapter 1: When I Entered

When I entered her it was the beginning of the most engrossing passion of my life… and when I say my _life_, I do admit to having this encompass who I am from the end of a scepter most obvious and to the provisions of a love most grand.

Of course, when we had stepped into this room, she knew that to have me there with her, was to remember an incarnation she knew and remembered easily. What else would this existence be for? But to engage in an act so deep and bewitching? That's what we were here for… of course…

With her brown hair, almost auburn and her form, so beguiling I took all in my hands and possessed her, as she had never let me possess her before. The point is, that she had forgiven all I had done and… perhaps was prepared to chain _me_ as I had chained her and I was ready for it. Believe me.

The fear… I had… was uncertain. I most likely deserved anything I received, after threatening punishment so much, but at this point I could not care less. I wouldn't mind being wrestled to the ground and whipped as I deserved.

The incessant love I felt for my beloved Josette, was almost nothing to this new bride, who was both _her_ and Miss Evans. And I felt it was an unknown temptation of scintillation, upon every aspect of my skin. What cared I for the blood of other mortals… when the blood of her inner soul was all I cared for?

Of course she bit me with rage, and shackled me to her bed with her fists… and all that was glorious in it is unknown to any other mortal… not that *I* was that, of course. And neither was she at this point. As she drained the blood from my hip I cried out in ecstasy… but that was only the beginning.

As my loins sprang to life, she licked the wounds she inflicted and I could only stare into the cracks of the ceiling and wonder. Had it really been so long? So long that this house had stood without so much love and drawn out with so many moaning ghosts? Oh… but *would* they ever moan as _I_ was moaning now?

She now laid above me and we were one. In and out I flowed within her, the place where all life might begin, if I hadn't seen it always at the neck, but rather down below. She knew and will always know, what could please me. My pulse throbbed with the intensity as she came upon me and we kissed… She responded violently, smarting my lips, but I welcomed it, her ivory pale legs wrapping around me in the thrust and jab of all that meant total completion between us.

I caressed her ribs and, of course, the _nearby regions_, as she absorbed my breath in the inhale of a whisper. Of course, there was only candlelight in this room, but it lightened her precious lips, which glistened upon my sight and intoxicated me further. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn't. To look upon this love of which I'd desired so ceaselessly, as I'd pined so longingly, and finally _had_… after suffering the long awaited forgiveness only she could allow me. And of course, I had to release all inhibition of being in _any_ control. It was her, and her alone who could be in control… of _me._

What did I care, though? As we rolled off the bed and throughout the room, colliding from wall to wall, from one furnishing to another… all cares melted away, and her laughter echoed with the fall of the objects from her vanity table… not that she was vain… Oh no! _I'd_ prepared those things for her. And she had proven to me… that all she cared about… was _I_… and the delectation of our long awaited joy… as this was so obvious to me now… and… as we cascaded within each other.

Along the floor we twirled and spun… the bed-clothes trailing around us, her upon me and surrounding me… and I within her, clenching her at the waist… adjusting to the furthest reaches of her _inner beauty_, as she clawed at my scalp, then ran her fingers down my neck and sank her teeth into my shoulder.

And her herald… Josette, though similar to her in beauty, but, to my knowledge, nothing like her in the act of love, or perhaps the act of lust? But what is the difference in this instant? A combination of beauty assailed me as we suckled upon each other's flesh. There had been modesty earlier… but tonight? …not a trace could be found between her nor myself as we dined in passion on one another.

Of course, what else would be expected when we rolled so close to the hearth fire and ignited ourselves so close to its flame that the sparks singed our skin? What sweet pain it was, too. Had we not already bruised each other with what had come before? What a comfort it would be to sooth the wounds inflicted by a love so divine?

AND… when I had penetrated her so deeply in that place… that our lovemaking finally shook the portrait off the wall? Did she care? No… _she laughed_… for it was **not** her… _she_, the true her, was there, and I was within her and she was encompassing me so completely. And that was _all_ she cared about.

There may have been no Maggie Evans at all, if I had not loved that Miss Dupres, and met her again over a century later and known this fiery devotion for both. Ha! Of course, _is it not_ like a man, to want more than _one_ woman? And is it not easier for one to enjoy the pleasures of _two_ at once, like this?

One might resent me for enjoying this so thoroughly… but thankfully, who I was with… both in spirit and in _body_ and with intensity… _loved me_… and even if she wanted to chain me down, or lacerate me with either a branding or perhaps simply her exquisite cuspids, I cared not… as long as she stroked me, as long as she loved me… as long as she lovingly hurt me with a pain so unyielding to set my sinews aflame.

"And what did you think of that?" I asked later, as we lay in each other's arms upon her bed, "shall you tell me?"

"As we sit in the dark, Barnabas," she answered, "and you let me whisper… I will."


	2. Chapter 2: The Whom of Many

Chapter 2: The Whom of Many

As I've allowed to express the experience of this strange and unique plight in my love-life, I must again analyze its insistent confusion of fate. What She was, what We are, has left a craving in me to explain the tale. Perhaps more for myself than for anyone else.

You might understand, or perhaps defer to reference, that this woman of whom I love so intensely, is not simply a single woman unto herself. She is at least three, and I have "known" them. So I must explain that **one** in between. THAT was the one who made it all clear. Kitty Soames, or Lady Hampshire.

She was, sadly, the obvious crux of this entire escapade in my love for the original that flew off the cliff so many years ago. Why my Kitty felt compelled to drink of poison, as my mother had done, still escapes me with a wet-eyed glow of compassion. And confusion. However, it is likely her own confusion of knowing so well who she had been and what had become of us that makes this tale a needed one. As my father-in-law has said, there must have been some reason she continued to try and return to me through the centuries. And I in my singular life, as long as it is, can only wonder at the misery I've put my darling through. As grateful as I am at the result.

Kitty, was, indeed, so tightly bound in her corsets as to be almost waif-like. And it pained me to see my Josette in such a state. But likely worse, to see her still crying out to me, still searching to find me, and I am ashamed as such in my attempts to let her go, but not being able to. And in that magnificent dress, she was truly the purple rose of my longing.

Had I known of her existence when I awoke in this time, perhaps I may have been less diabolical in my plans. Though, how one can be so calculating after so much time had passed, with I in this new time period, does assuage some guilt in my terrible actions.

Kitty, my beauty, for who I both mourn and am grateful to have again in this Margaret, dazzles my interest. And if it were not for her, it may not have been so obvious what was happening to us. Something was trying, and when one looks at the chronology of our history, to keep us alive, and to gather us together at that alter of union. And she was brave to come out and say so. Of course it tickles me that she recognized our tormentor, Angelique, and immediately went to throttle the life out of her. For this… Kitty is the name I often use when I see that sweet justice again, in my Maggie.

Of Angelique, I say, that though Josette may have been born to high regard, if anyone has taken the chance to notice, of all the other people with expectations of servants, Josette was the one who treated her like a friend. This makes all that tormenting, both between us, and our families, the worse for it. The one person who wanted to give Angelique the attention she craved, Angelique smote worse than any of the others. And Josette understood, as we all do now, what Angelique's true problem always was: Neglect. Though we hope this can be rectified. There *is* a man who can love her, and it certainly isn't me. Though even with him, she'll have to earn it, and earn it righteously.

Then Kitty took her own life, and as my Maggie has said, it could not be helped, though we still have that longing for Kitty, even now. Though, sometimes when She looks at me, when She speaks with a certain inflection, I know Kitty is there, within her… and when I've engulfed my passion toward her, she tells me she knows, and she _feels_ it. Whether it's a kiss, or whether it is when we imbibe upon each other in that room which belongs to ALL of them, I know she exists. I know she is there, and I know, that all of those three… are **one.**

As for Maggie… who I aim to make right among all of the others, she has told me, in retrospect, just what those night terrors were about.

Oh? You don't remember? The night terrors that sent her screaming out from her own handsome profiled sleep? Those were her evidence of what was to come. The knowledge of all her previous conditions to me, and the future knowledge of the terrible acts I would inflict and forever wish a rotten heart upon myself for. That is the vile aspect of reincarnation… sometimes we not only _know_ what has gone before… but what is… to occur.

The lovely thing of all this is, she knows what ought to be and does it with exquisite divinity. As always, in all her lives, she is not one who likes to idle, and that is the sadness for those who cannot know her. Others see her as sweetness _only_, a trifling happiness and without any complexity. But *I* know better, as do her entourage for which I take up my pen to explain these things.

But what of our Julia? _Poor_ Julia, as some may say. That is something for which I must address because I think so many believe her to be otherwise than I know her.

Dr. Julia Hoffman, must be described above both woman and doctor. And that is the troubling approach in all of this. That people see her only as a woman and _not_ as a doctor, to which she likely has struggled to fight the conventions of her time to prove herself. As I pen these diaries, I have to admit, that her happiness is my happiness, and to see her with that other gentleman is not only a blessing but a fitting condition. You see, as her own previous incarnation with another man… _they _have also returned, to help with the curse they inflicted on my own cousin. And so these things are all working out, as Maggie and Mr. Evans has told us they may.

Julia, has been such a close friend, many would believe her to be a lover. Of course, that is the expectation of the gullible romantic. But Dr. Hoffman is far above this, you must know. And considering how many of the male persuasion in her line of work have shown vaguely superior, it IS an unfairness grotesque to her own ability to decipher problems. They've told me something of this period of time of women's liberation… Well, is it really so liberating when one contemplates only the carnality of a woman? Unfair, **truly** unfair to herself and her profession. And I believe her current paramour knows that… and… so do I.

Thankfully, my own sweet love and my own sweet friend have engaged in a durable bond between each other. Again, I must thank heaven and earth when I see these things. Shan't we all be friends, assisting each other, when all is said and done? I do hope so. And you do realize, that if it wasn't for my heroic Julia, I would not finally have the love I so desire now, nor the love that has so desired _me_ through many generations of wearisome attempts.

Unfortunately I cannot continue with this story just yet. My bride is inviting me, with a winsome eye, to her bedroom. And I'm sure she would be fine with enlightening you on the details of that if anyone requests it. And, as I have noted, from my discussions with our friend Julia, she also is dabbling some disclosures behind certain doors. She has done a great deal of studies in the matters of personal pleasure, and what might light a person's fire. _Ah_… that_ is_ gratifying.

Well, I must pursue this beauty… further… and _deeper_ than before perhaps. And for those out there, in their own wedded bliss, you likely understand what we all are going through. Isn't it lovely?


	3. Chapter 3: Josette Speaks

Chapter 3: Josette Speaks

Well, perhaps not Josette, but as he knows me now. And when I say he knows me, I should describe all the corners and crevices… of not just my body… but my very soul. For we are all one, when it comes down to it. Though I'd love to describe just how it's ALL been explored.

As I've been made to look upon so many people, it isn't so difficult to reconcile who I am with so many others. _I've_ had to peruse the darker aspects of human nature, both at the coffee shop and between other worlds. You see, I _do_ understand other people, and as my husband says, I don't like to be idle.

But how can someone of so little complexity as **_I_** be of any use to anyone? Well, I must take some umbrage at that assumption. I've had to re-live other times as myself. So, you can imagine, that kind of harsh reality can make me pretty unhappy in others assuming its worth-less-ness. Though, when it comes to this town, I don't mind so much as long as I can help everyone. And from what Mr. Loomis has told me, they all appreciate what I might be able to do here.

And yes… sometimes I just want to wrap Mr. Loomis in my arms and kiss him tenderly, and perhaps I have, but when my husband looks on, he doesn't mind so much. We're all friends here, aren't we? Besides, there's another girl coming to see Mr. Loomis soon. We believe she loves him and he'll be surprised at how he feels about her. That strapping fellow deserves a mischievous girl… and he's going to get one if we have any idea about the matter.

However, I haven't had a chance to tell MY story. As you know, I did send a glance toward the lover I've been waiting several generations to have. And perhaps, if I hadn't gone through that hypnosis, I may not have known. But I _did_ want him, _before_ I knew all the rest… and afterward, when I had time to reflect, and Barnabas has time to prove he was worth forgiving… I was happy to find out he was able to _prove_ other things to me.

How much DID I really attack him, as he described? I'm afraid he overshadowed his own lust in describing mine. He was a bit docile, I admit, but he failed to describe the array of avid caresses I attended to his torso before soaking my mouth in the blood of his hips. It was obviously a sweet torment to him, I confess, but nothing as to what I felt then, when I knew we were to be joined at last from that moment.

You see… he'd waited more than one lifetime, but *I* had waited three… and that's a LONG time to wait for such yearning. He did nothing at that point and I guided him in… and you may never know the delicious cringe on his face when I enacted it all. Of course, he made a lunge for my chest and all surrounding, as I did in kind. There has never been enough time to probe every particle of each other.

And yes, the painting _did_ fall down… and the frame was lightly singed from the hearth fire, as we were. But I've been considering having a new one made anyway, now that I know all that I am and have been. And he's been wanting that as well, not from such strong desire, but a quaint and subdued curiosity. Still, I was very proud when I could relax and he could take over, and that was how we were thrown against the wall and my old and tormented portrait fell. And I _did_ laugh.

I _have _been so tired of being objectified.

Although, when it comes to that, I have no objections to him fondling my parts, or biting at my ankles, or kissing me all over as I've so ever waited to experience. And as I've responded in kind to _him,_ as well. It really has been a LONG time. And when it comes to _long_… I do tell of some gratification he has in this regard. It's helpful, considering what a complete fool he's been. But I still love him dearly. I just wish he'd been blessed with more street smarts when it comes to these things.

Still, that might only be because I've had this most recent life-time. As I've told him, perhaps I was so wealthy the other two times, and poor this time around to understand where it would be that monetary help would make the most impact. When I explained that, after we'd imbibed on each other, do you know what he said?

He said, "If my wealth can make any of that easier, it's at your disposal."

"How can you do that?" I asked, "Simply giving me all of what you own… like that?"

And he answered, "Well, you've already given me… _yourself_."


End file.
